Shot In The Dark
by xMeganful
Summary: We're falling with a shot in the dark. DeanxCastiel smut and fluff. SPN post-season 11. A collection of mostly Destiel oneshots. Rating and themes vary per chapter.
1. On My Own

****I don't own anything. All rights go to their rightful owners. This story may contain spoilers for the TV series 'Supernatural' post season 11. T**** ** ** **his chapter may also be graphic and contain sexual content or triggering material. I advise that sensitive readers should not read this story. I do not condone or encourage any violent or heinous acts that may occur in this chapter.** Thank you for any and all views, favourites, follows and reviews.  
****

 ** **This fanfic is a collection of various (and mostly Destiel) oneshots. Each chapter is unrelated and takes place at different times, unless stated otherwise. Enjoy!****

 ** **(Set instead of 09x03, where Castiel finds Dean instead of April.)****

* * *

 _"Fine!_ I'm leaving. I'll get out of your precious, long hair 'till you calm the _hell_ down." Dean threw his hands up in frustration, pulling a rucksack over his shoulder and pocketing the Impala's keys. With constant arguments over the world's affairs and the angels falling, the elder Winchester had decided to take a short break from his brother.

Sam scowled, "Where are you going?" he responded gruffly from his laptop, which sat upon one of the Men of Letter's bunker tables.

"To find Cas." he firmly decided aloud, having previously not thought through his plan to leave the safety of his home. "He should've been back by now. Poor bastard's probably got himself lost." pushing up the bunker steps, Dean called his response and left for the road, glad that Ezekiel made no effort to protest.

* * *

 _This love took a burning start._

* * *

With the purr of the Impala and the roar of Kansas tunes, Dean almost didn't notice the all-too-familiar-face of a newly fallen angel. He slowed Baby as he reached the stretch of pavement that Castiel stood on, rolling down the window against the falling rain as Cas turned to face him. In the moody light of the city, whatever glimmer of Grace that remained inside the angel was long forgotten, replaced by rain sodden clothes and an expression of grim consolation.

"Dean," relief lit his features, which sagged with fatigue and hunger, rainwater clinging to unfamiliar clothes. Leaning out the car window, Dean grinned. Despite whatever anger Castiel had thought Dean harboured towards him for the fall of the angels, he felt nothing but solace to see his friend's live face.

"C'mon, get in, you'll catch a cold." with downcast blue eyes, the man obliged, slipping into the Impala's passenger seat. Dean watched as he attempted to wipe the droplets of water from his hands onto his jeans, goosebumps pricking his evidently cold skin. "You don't look so good, Cas. When was the last time you ate? You have to do that now, right; eat, sleep, drink, poop?"

"Yes, it seems so." Castiel mumbled gruffly. "Metatron - he stole my Grace. I had no idea he was going to-"

"Hey, Cas, I get it. You didn't know, alright? Here-" he interrupted, sympathy building for the fallen angel. Pulling a paper bag from beside him, Dean threw it to Castiel. "Burgers, right? You couldn't keep yourself away from them when Pestilence was in town. I figured you'd be hungry, being human 'n all." digging gratefully through the bag, Castiel grinned fondly at Dean's words.

Through a mouthful of meat, he murmured, "Thank you, Dean. I had severely underestimated my ability to keep human functions optimum."

"You've not eaten yet? The angels fell almost two weeks ago." his eyes ran over the angel's form, which had already become thinner since the last time Dean had saw him. It dawned on him that Castiel had been surviving on his own, without help or instruction, attempting to survive as a very mortal, _very killable,_ human.

"I've frequented many homeless shelters, sometimes they offer food." he responded nonchalantly, his thoughts seemingly focused on the food within his hands. "Everything has a unique taste, most of them pleasant. It used to be just...molecules." Castiel's words trailed to a mutter as he spoke, the remembrance of his current predicament daunting. Swallowing, his lips tugged into a small smile, "But I have you now, and Sam, of course."

Running along his neck, Dean sighed, "Look, Cas, you can't stay with me and Sammy. It's best you stick on your own for now, lay low for a while 'till the angels go back skyward." sympathy tugged at his words as Castiel became saddened, averting his eyes in upset.

"Oh. Very well, Dean-" he moved to leave the Impala, though the hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Hey, c'mon, I'm not just going to leave you hangin'." Dean smiled softly, "Where you stayin' lately?"

Castiel cleared his throat, his eyes still averted, though now with embarrassment. "Uh...here and there." he divulged, "Any doorway or corner. Nowhere specific." licking his lips, the hunter thought for a moment, regretting the moment that Ezekiel had said that Castiel was to keep his distance from them.

"How about we set you up somewhere? Cheap little flat, nice part-time job? Maybe find you a chick while we're at it?" shifting the Impala into gear, Dean grinned at his idea; giving the fallen angel a sense of 'normal, human life' seemed sensible until he was no longer being hunted. "I have a couple fake IDs made up incase you ever needed them, and a little cash from our last hunt. It'll give you a head start on being human; a proper, functioning, working, boring human. What do ya say?" with a flash of teeth, he glanced to Castiel, who watched with adoration.

His smile reflected to the other man. "Thank you, Dean. I would appreciate that."

* * *

 _We're falling with a shot in the dark._

* * *

After many hours flicking through newspapers and advertisements, Dean had located a cheap apartment within walking distance of a decent-paying job, using his charm and Castiel's looks to convince the owner to hire the clueless mortal. The apartment consisted of a large room connected to a small corner of a kitchen, and an even smaller room for a bathroom. For the low rent, it was what the two had expected, with dull peeling walls and archaic wooden floors. It was a little shady, being mostly off the books and cash-run, but it was a given advantage for a fallen angel on the run from his own kind.

"What do you think?" Dean grinned, glancing to Castiel for a response, who stood with an unconvinced expression. "Okay, it's not _perfect_ but you have a mattress, and look-" pulling a large cardboard box from one of the kitchen countertops, he placed it overturned in the centre of the room. "-see? _Makeshift table!"_

A grin slipped from Castiel's lips, partially at how ridiculous it all seemed. He was grateful for Dean's help, glad to have shelter and a head start at 'being human'.

"It's good, Dean. Thank you." he spoke, his eyes wandering around the hollow room, attempting to ignore the coldness his vessel was feeling with the approaching nightfall. "I appreciate...this." he gestured to the apartment. "You didn't have to help me."

"'course I did, Cas. We're family." Dean insisted, though untelling of his current disagreement with his brother; he wondered if would he still be helping Cas if he hadn't fought with Sam, or if he would have left the fallen angel to survive on his own for longer.

"After everything with Metatron, using my Grace for the spell-"

Laying a hand on Castiel's shoulder, Dean shook his head, "It's cool, alright? We'll find a way to get those winged dickheads back to their penthouse, and when we do, you can come live at the bunker with me and Sammy." a smile dangled gently from his lips, though deep concern lay behind it, "Just...lay low for now, alright? Eat, sleep, watch some porn."

"I will. Though maybe not the porn..." he muttered, his eyes averted at the thought; the last time Cas had viewed porn, it had a bemusing effect on his vessel, one which he didn't know how to react to. With the basic knowledge he had on human sexual intercourse and reproduction, Castiel had silently considered the experience many a times.

"Are you telling me you're _still_ a virgin? Christ, Cas, you're _human_ now. Go crazy, find some chicks, get laid." Dean chuckled teasingly, releasing his grip on the human. Castiel, through his shame, furrowed his eyebrows questioningly.

"Must it be a 'chick'? Does it not count with men, also?" he wondered aloud. The hunter raised an eyebrow.

Dean responded with curiosity, uncertain of the answer that Castiel was seeking, "Well, I guess it does. Why, you gay or somethin'?"

"I'm a celestial being, I-" for a moment, the angel lived in a wonderful moment of forgetfulness, where he was an angel that was indifferent to sexual orientation, but that moment was halted with Dean's sympathetic glance, the brash and cruel reminder that this angel had _fallen_ now filling his mind. "I'm not a homosexual. I don't _think_ so." his tone was light, with indifference behind it.

"Oh." Dean nodded, "Well, it's cool if you are, or if you're not. Whatever." he mumbled awkwardly, finding a sudden brief interest in the floorboards. "Well," he declared finally, turning to leave, "You should probably rest up. I'm gonna head out, find a motel or somethin'. Dark will be soon, and we both know what the dark brings." Dean joked lightly, a forced grin on his face.

Castiel frowned, "You're not returning to Sam?"

"I'm on a case." came the automatic response, his lie seemingly obvious to the man as he gave an expression of disbelief. Sighing, Dean admitted stubbornly, "We had a fight, alright? I said I needed some time...so, I thought I'd checkup on the newly-human angel of Thursday."

"You're welcome to stay here, until you and Sam start talking again, if you wanted to." Castiel offers, his eyes searching for _something_ in Dean's. He wasn't sure _what._

Briefly considering sleeping in a dark and cold motel alone, or the Impala with her weapon and file covered backseat, Dean nodded. "Yeah, sure. One night couldn't hurt."

* * *

 _I'll love you 'till the days end._

* * *

Autumn brought a colder and darker night than the many months before, the small crumbling apartment that Castiel kept unhelpful to the harsh temperatures his vessel felt. On the floor lay a large mattress, one that Dean had been able to buy with the money stuffed away in the Impala's crevices, with the fallen angel curled into one side and the sorrowful hunter spread on the other. Both men lay awake, unknowing of the other's consciousness, reflecting upon their own tragedies and considering the few options they had remaining.

Moving to lay on his back, Castiel stared up at the cracking ceiling, calling Dean's name softly in the darkness, the only light a streetlamp outside the windows draped with fraying cloth. Dean groaned a response.

"Yeah, Cas?"

Fatigue was evident in both voices, deep and rough from the world's burdens, "I didn't intend to wake you."

"You didn't." propping himself on his elbows, Dean's rubbed a hand wearily over his face, "What's up, Cas?"

"I can't sleep." he admitted, his eyes tracing over the shadows and reflections on the walls. "Sleeping is more difficult than I thought. You make it look easy."

"Yeah, well, being human isn't just tacos and women." the hunter spoke with the intention of a joke, though his voice revealed a troubled dismay behind it. "Sometimes," he began, explaining empathetically, "Humans can't sleep because there's something on their mind. Anything like that might be buggin' you?"

Castiel spoke bluntly, "Yes." pulling a sigh from Dean, he knew it was useless playing Dr. Phil with an angel, collapsing heavily back onto the mattress.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Twisting onto his side, the brunette faced him with desperation in his bright eyes, "What is there to talk about, Dean? Heaven is- and my brothers..."

"Huh. Screw 'em, Cas." he interrupted sharply, green eyes meeting with blue. Pressing a hand to his shoulder, his lips tugged into a small smile of reassurance, "Look, we'll figure something out in the morning. Heaven, Hell...they're not our problem right now. We just- I gotta keep you safe, for now, and that's all you gotta worry 'bout."

With a gentle smile of adoration, Cas murmured softly, his eyebrows furrowed with the perplexing thought of his safety, "Dean..."

And maybe it was the fatigue, or maybe it was the brewing human emotions of affection in his abdomen, but Castiel leaned into the hunter and placed a soft kiss on his lips.

"Cas," his name seemed desperate on Dean's tongue, his voice tight with fervour. For a moment, they breathed the same warm air, eyebrows raised in question and minds careless with want. Within a second kiss, longer and deeper than before, Dean moved to straddle the man. "Cas, tell me you want this." he breathed shakily.

"What?" came Castiel's subconscious confusion, the warmth of Dean's lips numbing his thoughts.

His voice was desperate, breathy with a vulnerability he never let slip, "Tell me you want this, too."

"Of course, Dean." the words barely left Castiel's mouth before Dean was softly pulling at them, his hands grasping Cas' face tenderly, his tongue trailing over warm flesh and eliciting sinful gasps from the fallen angel.

With a gently burning passion, the hunter showed the angel how being human _wasn't_ entirely full of suffering and pain, a lesson in which he carried with fondness and love, the burdens of Heaven and Hell unable to match its intimacy.

* * *

 _My love, let us know no end._


	2. Just Another Day

**I don't own anything. All rights go to their rightful owners. This story may contain spoilers for the TV series 'Supernatural' post season 11. This chapter may also be graphic and contain sexual content or triggering material. I advise that sensitive readers should not read this story. I do not condone or encourage any violent or heinous acts that may occur in this chapter. Thank you for any and all views, favourites, follows and reviews.**

 **Please note that chapter one has been extended since initial upload. Furthermore, this chapter is unrelated to the previous one.**

 **Set-post 09x03, "I'm No Angel", in an AU where 'Ezekiel' left Sam much sooner than he did, allowing Castiel to stay at the bunker. Established Destiel.  
**

* * *

Morning awoke Dean, who stirred sleepily on the bunker bed, reluctantly pulling himself from sleep and into reality. He shifted to the edge of the otherwise empty mattress, groggily pulling clothes onto his form before trudging blindly to the room he and Sammy spent most of their days. Leaning against the counter, he poured himself a cup from the seemingly recent coffee pot, rubbing the sleep from his eyes tiredly.

"Good morning, Dean." a voice chirped in his ear, a pair of familiar and warm hands resting on his waist. The hunter flinched in surprise.

"Christ, Cas-" he muttered, coffee threatening to spill from his cup. Turning to face two blue eyes and a loving grin, Dean pulled himself closer to the Graceless angel. "Human or not, you gotta stop the creepy sneaking. Would it kill you to wear a bell or somethin'?"

"Possibly." came Castiel's blunt answer, who seemed unknowing of Dean's joke. In response, with a grin light on his lips, Dean pressed a soft kiss to Cas' lips.

"Oh, come on guys, I know you're no longer in denial of your feelings and all that, but I haven't even had coffee yet." the younger Winchester piped up from the doorway, his bare feet lightly tapping against the cold bunker floors, crossing the room with a sarcastic roll of his eyes. Grasping the coffee pot Castiel had evidently filled, he groaned at the familiar taste.

Cas was the first to break the kiss, greeting a calm, "Good morning, Sam." to the man.

"Hey, Cas." he gave a weary and brief smile, caffeine beginning to run through his body as the evidence of a long night cleared.

"Morning, Sammy." his brother spoke, drawing himself from his lover, finding interest once more in his own cup. He grinned at Sam's mockery, teasing, "I didn't see you come home last night. Late one?"

"Yeah." Sam muttered, "Research."

"Did you...find trouble? You seem to have thrombosis on your neck." the fallen angel asked curiously, his eyebrows lowered in concern and confusion. With a sigh, Sam rubbed a hand over his neck, pulling a laugh from Dean as he watched his brother be caught in a lie.

"Yeah, alright, so I was out pretty late." he admitted.

"With a girl?"

"Yeah. Well, you've got Cas and I wasn't going to listen to you two screw like rabbits all night so-"

Raising his voice above his brother's, Dean waved a hand dismissively, "Alright, you've had your fun. Don't embarrass the poor guy." with a roll of his eyes, Sammy continued sipping his coffee.

Perplexed, Castiel sensed an awkward shift in the air. "I'm going to shower now." he announced, leaving towards the bathroom he and Dean frequented most, his lover following silently a few paces behind.

As he walked, Castiel thought of the differences between his life as an angel and as a human, of how it took for him to loose his everything to gain his something; to fall for Dean in every sense of the word, and to feel the joy and love that being human brought. With a millennia of experience under his belt, nothing could prepare the fallen angel for the wonders Dean Winchester brought, as he was caught off-guard by the hunter behind him. Half-nude and senses dulled by the running of shower water, Castiel let out a breathy gasp against the welcoming lips.

"What, am I not welcome today?" he murmured teasingly, pulling at Cas' lower lip with his teeth.

"Of course, Dean." he groaned past the arousing sight of Dean stripping himself bare, pulling Castiel into the warm downpour of water with his bright green eyes. Though, just like every other time the man had convinced his lover to shower with him, Castiel knew there would be little showering done.

Trailing his lips over Cas' neck, Dean murmured softly against his warm flesh, his arousal evident against his abdomen as he moved further down the brunet's vessel.

"Dean..." his hands ran through the man's hair, grasping for something to ground himself to, attempting to contain the wild look of lust and want in his eyes. Dean appreciated the slower and gentler side of sex, showing immense patience as Castiel groaned a sinful phrase.

He grinned lovingly against parted lips, touching himself and Cas with slow and deliberate movements, "I've got you." nipping along his collarbone to pause below his raised chin, Dean began sucking a gentle bruise into his neck. His movements were only encouraged as Castiel responded appreciatively, thrusting against the hunter with each pleasurable tug at his member. As his desperation increased, Dean moved them faster.

"Let it go, Cas." he moaned against whining lips, moving to tug at the angel's earlobe teasingly, "Come for me, angel."

Without shame or regard, Castiel released himself grinding against the Righteous Man, gasping as he watched the effects it had on him, who groaned at the erotic sight and rode through his own orgasm. Brief and gentle kisses dragged from their lips, the aftermath satisfying and pleasant, neither men eager to suggest anything different; in that moment, all the fallen angel and the hunter knew was a short need for breath, the feel of water against their backs, and the unconditional love they found in one another.

* * *

A curt rumble brought Dean from the shower, who protested at the lack of food in his body.

"I'm gonna go make breakfast, I think we still have those eggs from last week." he called to Castiel, who had decided he needed to shave, before slipping out the bathroom door. When he stepped into the kitchen twenty minutes later, he found nothing but a mess of used pans.

"Dean?" Castiel called around the large room, looking past white tiles and cooking equipment to find his lover.

From the corridor behind him, the brunet heard the familiar hunter call his name. "Hey, Cas, we're in here." spoke Sammy, an eager grin on his face at the scent of food in the air. He followed a few paces behind, the scent of eggs and bacon filling his nostrils, finding the source of it within the room the three spent most of their days in. At one of the large tables stood Dean, who divided food from a pot onto three plates. His brother watched in glee.

"Here you are, little brother." Dean spoke with a voice that seemed rehearsed, as if this scene had played out a hundred times before Castiel even knew them. Nevertheless, a delighted grin lit his face. "Where's Cas- Cas?" he shouted to the fallen angel, turning towards the door to find him, though the hunter stopped when he found him watching from the doorway. "What, you just gonna stand there? C'mon, you'll love these."

At Dean's teasing, Castiel took a seat beside him at the table, glancing to the merrily eating Sam curiously; food fascinated Castiel, who always thought it nothing but a necessity for human survival, up until the day he became human, too. It was only then that he understood it was one of life's many pleasures.

Pushing a plate towards him, Dean declared proudly, "Eggs 'n bacon, cooked it up myself." the fallen angel eyed it with interest, inhaling the pleasant scent and feeling the warmth radiate from it.

"Thank you, Dean."

Sam, who watched with a slight smirk, shook his head and snickered, "If you two are done having a moment, I think I found us a case." dropping his fork, Sam pulled his laptop towards him. Several books and papers surrounded him on the table. "So, two men were found killed in Colorado outside the same bar, both within a month of each other. Police are calling them animal attacks, but get this - no hearts found in or around either victims."

"Sounds like a werewolf." Dean commented nonchalantly, questioning, "How's the lunar cycle?" his eyes briefly trailed over Castiel, watching as the man unknowingly chewed at the meat with a soft and appreciative smile.

After a brief silence, with the taller hunter tapping at the laptop's keys, he leaned back in his chair and responded with a nod, "Full moons line up with both so-called 'animal attacks'."

"Not a pure-blood then." Dean decided aloud, pushing his rapidly cleared plate away from himself, "Finish up and grab your silver. We're huntin' wolves tonight."

* * *

Emerging from the Impala, the elder Winchester glanced regretfully to the fallen angel, who fumbled with a gun loaded with silver; he had hated the idea of bringing Castiel on a hunt, but he had stubbornly agreed when he tilted his head and widened his eyes in question. It was the man's lack of training and experience as a hunter that worried him, though since Cas had become human, he had learned what made Dean swoon. _  
_

"Remember, if one of 'em comes at you, you shoot first and ask questions later." he instructed firmly, his lips pressed into a thin line. "Just try not to shoot Sam or me, alright?" Dean's tone lightened enough to tease him, though a sliver of caution remained in his voice.

Castiel nodded, pushing the gun into his coat. "Okay, Dean." and donned as FBI agents, the three men began their hunt.

* * *

Panting and aching, the brunet fell to his feet, his hands sliding to the gun buried in his clothes. Clicking off the safety, he fired a shot at the beast surveying him. It retreated into the wilderness with a groan, leaving the man to run a bloody hand over the throbbing laceration on his arm, a silver-loaded gun still clutched tightly.

"Cas! Cas-" behind him came the anxiety-riddled voice of Dean Winchester. Castiel turned to pull himself up, hissing at the pain in his side, allowing the hunter to disarm him. "Hey," he called softly, his arm wrapping around Cas to support his unbalanced movements. "Hey, Cas," he spoke again, firmer this time, pulling the brunet's hazy eyes from the floor, "Look at me. You alright? You get bit?"

"Claws punctured my arm, but I'm not bitten." Castiel groaned through gritted teeth. "I think I shot it. He ran that way." he gestured vaguely, moving unsteadily with Dean towards the Impala parked at the edge of the forest. "You should go after him, Dean."

The hunter responded steadily, his concern masked, "If it's injured, it'll retreat back to wherever it came from to lick it's wounds. Me and Sammy will take care of it tomorrow, let's just get you back to the motel." he assured, stubborn to leave the side of the man that had become injured due to his neglect. He blamed himself for letting Castiel wander off, knowing it had been a mistake that he could have payed for with Cas' life.

"Dean." he groaned insistently; the fallen angel knew what it meant to the hunter to let a dangerous creature escape.

Dean's body tensed beside him, his voice firm and unrelenting. "No, Cas. We're gonna find Sam, and we're gonna get you back to the motel. It ain't open for debate." with the hunter pressed so closely against him, Castiel couldn't find it in himself to further complain.

In the forest's clearing, the two men found Sam leaning against the dark '67 Chevy Impala, fingering a gun undoubtedly filled with silver bullets. He helped haul Castiel into the car without too many questions, concern written on his face as he offered to drive. Dean hesitated to hand over his Baby's keys, though found himself quickly in the backseat with the bleeding man.

"It doesn't seem too bad. How'd he pin you, anyway?" he spoke to ease Cas' mind from his wound, pressing a rag against the gaping tear.

He hissed and groaned in anguish before responding, "I thought I had it under control. I underestimated a werewolf's speed."

"Yeah. They're pretty quick on their feet." the youngest hunter watched in the car mirror as his brother spoke, the calm demeanor he wore only cracking under Sam's gaze, who knew the man too well; Sam could see the affection he felt for the fallen angel, the smallest of movements revealing his suppressed anxiety and concern. Casting his eyes back to the road, the Impala fell silent until they reached the motel.

"Here, Dean," the younger Winchester handed a reel of dental floss to Dean, who peeled the blood-stained shirt from Castiel's body, crouching beside the plastic chair he sat on. Wiping blood from his torso with a rag, he began his methodical stitching, gritting his teeth against his lover's groans and hisses of pain. He kept his mind focused on the task at hand, moving quickly with precision like his father had shown him decades ago.

Standing up, marveling at the practiced line of dental floss stitching, Dean released a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. "Alright, just make sure it doesn't get infected. We've got some stuff in the car that'll help with the pain."

"I'll go get it." Sam offered, figuring the two could use a moment, picking the keys off the motel table and leaving them alone. Castiel glanced down at his side, breathing against the throbbing sensation of pain.

"You have a steady hand. Thank you." his hands fumbled to press against the back of Dean's neck, attempting to kiss his lover with as little movement as possible. Softly, Dean pressed a slow kiss to his feverish lips.

He observed attentively, "You're startin' to burn up, Cas."

"I feel fine, if you exclude the throbbing agony in my torso." the brunet groaned as he attempted to steady his breathing, the adrenaline of the situation beginning to wear thin. For a moment, his eyes caught with Dean's and his world centered around bright green eyes and scattered freckles, though the pain dragged him from it. "Do you think this will scar my vessel?" he asked spontaneously, staring back at his side, his fingers tentatively touching the surrounding flesh as he braced himself for the more sensitive pieces of skin.

"If you're lucky." Dean flashed a grin of teeth and delight, pressing a firmer kiss to his lips than before. His tongue found the curve of Castiel's mouth as the motel door clicked open, forcing the two to part for Sammy's sake.

Stuttering for a moment, blinking at the obvious scene before him, Sam tossed two bottles to his brother, "Uh- here." he nodded to Castiel, "They might knock you out for a few hours, but it'll help keep infection out and you could probably do with the rest."

"Thank you, Sam." his lips tugged into an appreciative half-smile, awkwardly swallowing the small capsules when his hunter handed them to him; they left an unpleasant taste in his mouth as they began to dissolve before he could swallow.

Silence plagued the room, with the three men exchanging looks of uncertainty; a werewolf was on the loose, which Sam wanted to hunt, whilst Dean reluctant to leave his wounded lover.

The younger brother was the first to speak, "You know, I think we're low on supplies. I could make a run." he suggested to Dean, who nodded with eyes set on Castiel.

"Yeah, thanks, Sammy." before Sam could leave, he was met with the familiar shout of, "Don't forget pie!" he grinned in response, clicking the door shut once again.

Castiel was hasty to pull Dean towards him, welcoming the warm and chapped lips pushing against his mouth. The hunter's hand rested on Cas' thigh, his nails beginning to dig into the material as the fallen angel let out a breathy gasp, consequently groaning into Dean's lips at the pain of the sudden inhale, who pulled away with furrowed eyebrows.

"You okay, Cas?"

"I'm _fine._ " Dean grew suspicious as he left too much stubborn emphasis on his words, his hand touching testingly against Castiel's side, who's pain became evident by his uncomfortable expression.

"You got clawed up by a werewolf, Cas, you're not fine. I'm takin' you to bed, just not in the way you were hoping. C'mon-" wrapping an arm around his torso, Dean assisted Castiel to one of the motel's two beds; his movements had become progressively more sluggish and uncontrolled since he swallowed the pills. He pressed a lazy kiss to his lover before withdrawing himself from him completely. "Get some sleep, alright? We'll talk about the _other_ _kind of bed_ in the morning." a light and suggestive underlining ran through his tone, attempting to use his all-too-familiar façade to cover his concern of Castiel's higher temperature.

A mumbled, "G'night Dean." found it's way past the fallen angel's lips before his world grew dark. With a small and fond smile lighting his features, the hunter pulled a thin motel blanket over his lover's bare and still-somewhat-bloody chest.

"Night, Cas."


	3. Home

**I don't own anything. All rights go to their rightful owners. This story may contain spoilers for the TV series 'Supernatural' post season 11. This chapter may also be graphic and contain sexual content or triggering material. I advise that sensitive readers should not read this story. I do not condone or encourage any violent or heinous acts that may occur in this chapter. Thank you for any and all views, favourites, follows and reviews.**

 **Established Destiel. Not set during any particular time, though Castiel is able to fly/teleport. Song 'Home' by Phillip Phillips.  
**

* * *

As the afternoon softly passed by, the sweet sound of Kansas tunes in the air, the Winchester brothers cruised through the city of their latest case; a Woman in White, Sam was beginning to theorise. When the sun fell below the horizon, they found themselves parking the Impala outside a cheap motel, pulling bags of plaid shirts and salt-packed guns with them, the dim and half-hanging motel sign grasping at its hinges.

Setting down his bag and collapsing on a plastic chair, Sam pulled his laptop onto the worn motel table. "So, I'm thinking we're looking at a Woman in White. Simple salt and burn? The M.O fits." he called to his older sibling, who seemed distracted with his eyes cast on the peeling carpets, fumbling with his hands as he sat on one of the two beds. "Dean?"

He brought his eyes up to meet his brother's, startled, "Yeah?" Dean shook his head free of his thoughts, clearing his throat. "Yeah, sounds good. Find anyone who might fit the bill?"

Sam briefly narrowed his eyebrows in suspicion, though decided against questioning his brother further. "Uh- yeah." he gestured to his open laptop, which displayed an article from a recent newspaper, "Madison Tyler, a local mother of six-year-old Jacob, who she drowned in their backyard. Two days later, she was found dead, her wrists slashed."

"Drowned kids, suicidal mom- any cheatin' boyfriends?" his mind, which had the profiles of dozens of monsters seared into him, wondered aloud. Dean leaned over the other man to run his eyes over the laptop screen, reading the grim story that Madison Tyler had left behind.

"Not that I can find."

Straightening his back, Dean released a frustrated sigh; the longer it took to identify the killer, the longer it had to increase it's number of victims. "Well, I don't know about you, but I'm starvin'. I saw a burger joint a couple blocks up, I'll head over whilst you research whatever this thing is."

Sam snorted as he watched him collect the Impala's keys, "Yeah, 'cause you're allergic to research."

"Shut up, bitch." he countered lightheartedly, a grin light on his lips as he pulled the motel door open, briefly running his hand reassuringly over his holster.

His response was subconscious, quipping, "Jerk."

The night was calm, a cooling breeze in the air against the summer's daylight heat, the scene desolate past the distance noise of passing cars. Clambering into the Impala, Dean was greeted with the familiar rustle of wings, delight in his features as he gazed at the angel.

"Hello," his hair was tousled, his eyes shining against the one shining street lamp. A familiar affection coursed through the two beings as their eyes refused to part.

Dean was the first to break the gaze, averting his eyes with his remembered upset, "Nice of you to show up."

"Dean-" Castiel furrowed his eyebrows.

"No, Cas- it's fine. You have your business, and I have mine." the rumble of the Impala's engine filled their ears, the hunter busying himself with the radio to distract himself from becoming hurt by the angel's absence. "Seeing as you're here, how about some music? We got Kansas, Metallica-

A harsh jerk from the radio brought it to life, a tune unfamiliar to Dean beginning to sound.

"Never heard of this. What is this, Phillip Phillips?" he asked with a snort, glancing to Castiel disapprovingly.

 _Hold on to me as we go,_

Ignoring the hunter, he nodded, "Yes. I felt guilt for being apart from you for several days, so I-"

"It's been three _weeks,_ Cas!" Dean interrupted, his annoyance clear in his tone. "This whole _relationship_ thing - it's gotta be two sided, man." he grimaced with the word, unaccustomed to the idea of commitment.

 _As we roll down this unfamiliar road._

Guilt flooded his features, forcing an intense gaze on the hunter with regret evident in his eyes, "I'm sorry, Dean. I hadn't expected to be absent for as long as I was." Castiel shifted uncomfortably, his memory abruptly reminding him of the reason behind his sudden appearance. He gestured to the radio, "I wanted to make it up to you."

 _And although this wave is stringing us along,_

Dean snorted, an eyebrow raised mockingly, "With what- music and sex?" as the angel's expression remained unchanging, Dean's façade faded with gentle blue eyes, an interested quirk of his eyebrows replacing his joking demeanor. Although chaste kisses had been exchanged between them, the hunter was hesitant to agree to sex with Castiel; meaningless sex felt easy to him, an act that he could derive pleasure from without thought or regard for emotions, though with the angel, he knew the sex would be beautifully yet terrifyingly intimate.

 _Just know you're not alone,_

"You're sure, Cas? I mean, you've never really done anything with anyone before, right?"

Castiel nodded with bright eyes, a soft smile on his lips, his head cocked slightly with adoration. "Of course I'm sure, Dean." the man pressed a gentle kiss to his mouth in response, dragging his lips slowly as Castiel relaxed into the unpracticed movement. When a light groan emitted from his lips, Dean began pulling him into the Impala's backseats.

Pushing him onto his back, Dean stared down at the disheveled angel. He observed Castiel fondly - the shine on his lips, the lights reflecting in his dilated eyes, the mouth agape with a lack of breath and a whine for more - and it was there, in the back of that old Chevy Impala, that Dean decided he was in love with an angel.

 _'Cause I'm gonna make this place your home._

"Dean?"

Pressing a firmer kiss to his mouth, the hunter wordlessly reassured his lover, his fingers interlocking with Castiel's as his another hand benevolently cupped his face. Gasping, the angel closed his eyes to the sensations, allowing himself the warmth and tranquility of the moment. Twisting his hands in Castiel's tie, Dean tentatively released the buttons on his shirt; he allowed time for the other to respond, to stop him or slow him, yet the angel only hummed against the lips moving over his collarbone.

 _Settle down, it'll all be clear._

Castiel's trench coat fell onto the car floor as it was pushed from his vessel, the shirt and tie following closely behind. He felt bare under Dean's gaze, yet his movements were patient and loving, his arousal only evident by his lust-blown pupils as his lips traveled towards Cas' navel. The angel's vessel began to stir with each alluring touch.

 _Don't pay no mind to the demons,  
They fill you with fear.  
_

Reaching for Dean, grasping his shirt carelessly, Castiel tightened his grip on his hand, desperate for something he wasn't sure of. His eyes met the man's for guidance.

 _The trouble—it might drag you down._

Fortunately, the hunter seemed to understand Castiel's request, pulling his plaid shirt from his body. He revealed a muscular form, a lifetime of hunting having lined his skin with scars. The angel's breath became unsteady once more, his heartbeat notably higher, the skin his veins pulsed against heated with lust and love.

Touching a hand against his abdomen, Dean straddled Cas' hips, feeling both of their erections through the layers of remaining clothes. Their breathing cut into whimpers and groans as Cas moved his hips to relieve the building pressure.

"Cas, shit-"

 _If you get lost, you can always be found._

Tensing his muscles underneath him, Castiel attempted to pull himself away in horror. "I- I apologise, Dean, I didn't intend to-"

"What, Cas- no, that feels good." the hunter interrupted breathily, rolling his hips testingly, forcing blue eyes to roll shut with pleasure. Dean continued to steadily grind his length against Castiel's, his body hovering over the angel, watching his reactions closely. "Feel that, Cas? Fuck-" as Castiel reopened his eyes, the sight before him pulled a groan from his throat - Dean was biting into the corner of his lower lip, the creases on his face revealing his restraint, so flustered and aroused that it seemed almost painful.

"Y- yes."

 _Just know you're not alone,_

Cupping his face, the hunter halted his body's movements and kissed the angel gently, passion and affection leaking past his lips in unsaid words; both beings knew each other intimately, sounds unable to express each emotion that burned within them. Dean's mouth dragged across glowing flesh, trailing across Castiel's vessel until he reached his thickened member.

Peering up into curious blue eyes, he asked, "Can I- you know, take these off?"

Cas nodded, and they both attempted to rid themselves of their clothing, laughing as it became a mess of limbs and hang-clinging trousers. Dean grinned with their final success, sitting nude beside an angel in the backseat of the '67 Chevy Impala; it seemed almost ludicrous, the scene like the set-up of a terrible joke, but an insanity that they were both happy to bear.

 _'Cause I'm gonna make this place your home._

Lazily running his hand over the angel, Dean pulled him into another kiss, attempting to reassure his undoubtedly-present nerves. He gently reminded himself that it was Cas' first time, and of how little he knew about what they were doing. In response, Castiel's hand found the edge of Dean's hip, griping it gently.

"You sure about this? We don't have to. We can stop or somethin'." the hunter cleared his throat awkwardly, praying to _the God he knew didn't care_ that one of His angels would agree to sleep with him; Dean almost laughed at the thought, though withheld as he awaited Castiel's answer.

Smiling softly, benevolence and affection within his expression, Castiel laid a tender kiss on Dean's lips - the first that he had ever initiated between them. "Of course, Dean."

 _Settle down, it'll all be clear._

"Alright, just tell me if you change your mind or somethin', okay?" Dean informed needlessly, mostly to reassure himself rather than the angel. He moved them to lay how they were before, with Cas' back to the leather backseats and Dean straddling his hips. As skin touched without boundaries or layers, each movement became increasingly more sensitive than before, both men's members brushing with every breath.

The hunter's mouth trailed down the angel's vessel, unstopping and precise, his fingers rubbing lightly against Castiel's length before wrapping his mouth around him. Silently, Dean admitted that he had no idea what he was doing, though the groans that fell from his lover's throat became a guideline for the hunter, allowing him to test everything he'd ever heard about giving pleasure to a guy.

 _Don't pay no mind to the demons,_  
 _They fill you with fear._

 _"Dean-"_ the broken whine of his name pulled Dean away from his thoughts, staring up at the wide-eyed angel with questioning eyes. As he realized Castiel was on the edge of ecstasy, he pulled his mouth from him and kissed him, receiving a desperate and needy response in return.

Leaning into his ear, nipping lightly at the top of his neck and running his hand swiftly over him, Dean murmured, "That's it, Cas, let go. Fuck-" he listened as incoherent words fell from Castiel's lips, the occasional word he recognised as his name, or Enochian; his release dripped from his member, his hips thrusting to meet Dean's movements until it became too much, his nails digging into the flesh of the hunter's shoulder.

 _The trouble—it might drag you down._

When Dean released Castiel's length, he was met with a glassy-eyed and toothy smile, the aftereffects of his orgasm rolling through his vessel. The hunter groaned at his worn expression, his own member sensitive to each arousing movement. Taking Castiel's hand in his own, he rested it encouraging on his intimacy, hopeful that the angel would be able to copy his actions.

 _If you get lost, you can always be found._

"Cas," their eyes met as Cas' hand moved testingly, gauging Dean's tensing muscles and thrusting hips for guidance. Able to create a rhythm, Castiel watched as the hunter came undone under the simple movement, feeling his breath hot against his neck, "Yeah, fuck, _Cas-"_ Dean's words turned to meaningless groans, his orgasm evident on the edge of Castiel's hip, who watched him with fascination and adoration.

 _Just know you're not alone,_

Ragged and torn breaths filled the Impala, the windows steamed against the cold outdoor air. They maneuvered to allow each other enough room to lay, pushed tightly together against the backseat of Dean's Baby; it seemed almost fitting, he decided fondly, watching as Castiel's chest began to rise and fall steadily once again. As they drifted between the sweet line of consciousness and post-orgasmic sleep, the angel turned his head to stare up at the hunter, his blue eyes lidded and his hands fumbling to pull his lover towards him. Gently, lazily, he dragged his lips against Dean's, savouring the warmth and taste of his mouth.

Before curling into the familiar body of the Righteous Man, the angel Castiel murmured against their parted lips, "Thank you, Dean."

 _'Cause I'm gonna make this place your home._


	4. Condemned Wings

**I don't own anything. All rights go to their rightful owners. This story may contain spoilers for the TV series 'Supernatural' post season 11. This chapter may also be graphic and contain sexual content or triggering material. I advise that sensitive readers should not read this story. I do not condone or encourage any violent or heinous acts that may occur in this chapter. Thank you for any and all views, favourites, follows and reviews.**

 **Set post-11x03, "The Bad Seed". I think this also explains a possible reason for Dean seeming fine (physically, at least) in 11x04, considering he declined Cas' offer to heal him at the end of 11x03.  
**

* * *

With the absence of most contusions and lacerations, Castiel seemed almost unfazed by the effects of the witch's magic, though Dean knew the angel better; past the sorrowful blue eyes, the hunter found torment. Inside the bunker walls, Sam called his goodnights, reassured that the two would be fine without his help for a few hours, almost glad to escape the yearning glances that his brother was exchanging with the angel.

Approaching Castiel with a beer bottle clutched in his hand, Dean moved to observe the angel's weary face, running his eyes over the steadily healing wounds.

"I think the spell came off worse." he joked lightly, taking a swig from the bottle, already having lost count of how many he'd consumed; it began to numb the painful throbbing sensation that was his torn body. Dean sat with dismal, positioned purposefully to avoid the angel's gaze, who sat across from him at the bunker table.

Castiel frowned regretfully, "Dean, let me heal you."

"I'm fine, Cas. It's worse than it looks." with averted eyes, Dean spoke dismissively, though neither beings believed his words. "Besides, you need all the mojo you can get right now; that bitch did a number on you."

"Healing you won't require much of my 'mojo'." he assured him gently, stubborn to the thought of allowing the human to heal naturally. "Please, Dean. It is the least I can do to make amends to you." turning to protest, Dean almost flinched away at the intense gaze he met.

Releasing an annoyed breath, the hunter shook his head, "This isn't about healing, or making amends, Cas! This is about _you_ getting the chance to be _even_ with _me._ "

 _"Even?"_ Castiel retorted, irritation and disbelief furrowing his eyebrows. "We are equals, Dean. Nothing that you did to me under the mark's influence will change that." the hunter could have almost believed his words, had his memory not harshly reminded him of the angel lying bloody on the bunker floors, an angel blade hanging threateningly above him in the tight grip of Dean's hand.

Biting his lip, Dean stood abruptly from the table. _"Goodnight,_ Cas."

"Dean,"

Their gazes met, gentle blue touching piercing green, and the hunter lowered his drink to the old table. Castiel gestured for him to sit beside him, his movements cautious and minimal, weary of his wounds, as Dean hunched his shoulders in the archaic chair.

He prompted quietly, his voice low and tender, "Tell me what is truly bothering you." he watched as the hunter licked his lips, seeming ambivalent, indecisive of his words as his mouth opened and closed several times.

Finally, Dean admittedly weakly, "What the mark did to me, what I became- it took every ounce of strength I had left _not_ to kill you. I wanted to sink that blade in your chest, and walk out of there with your _blood_ on my hands." his eyes, which had been erratic and searching, settled upon the angel's face. "There is nothin' that will keep me from forgettin' that. _Nothin'._ So don't tell me that this doesn't change anything between us, Cas." Dean spat his words through gritted teeth, yet Castiel could see that his rage was not directed him; Dean's anger was reserved for himself.

"Just... _don't."_ the hunter's gaze dropped once more, and the angel watched as he fumbled anxiously with his hands. Leaning further towards him, with mere inches separating them, Castiel responded compassionately.

"Despite all the pain you have caused me, all the times you have tried to kill me - I don't blame you, Dean Winchester, I truly _don't._ When will you understand this?" his eyes flickered up to Cas' lips, watching as they quivered faintly, before meeting his eyes, which were full of affection and benevolence.

Set aback by the sentiment, Dean breathed through parted lips, "Cas,"

The situation felt familiar, he recalled nonchalantly, and each time he had stared across at bright blue eyes until something had forced them away; now, with a rush of adrenaline and the dull ache of lingering guilt, the hunter cupped the angel's face, closed his eyes, and softly kissed his lips.

It was short, tentative - enough to get his point across, Dean decided - before he withdrew, watching as Castiel's eyes reopened at the loss of brilliant heat, his pupils blown with dilation. Dean cleared his throat awkwardly, shifting his gaze away from the angel.

"Dean?" Castiel's voice was raw with emotion, his mouth agape with the memory of Dean's tender lips upon his own. He caught Dean's gaze with wandering eyes, narrowing his features with mystification at the hunter. It seemed illogical - Castiel thought - that Dean would want anything more than friendship from the angel. He moved to copy Dean's movements, yearning for the profound feeling it had stirred within him, as he touched his fingers experimentally to the hunter's face. With wide eyes, the man pressed his mouth against him before Castiel could try.

Dean groaned softly as the angel ran his tongue testingly along the bottom of his lip. It elicited pain from his bruised features, though quickly soothed by the gentle touch of an angel, a thick warmth spreading throughout his body as Castiel ran his hands through Dean's hair.

"Damnit Cas-" the hunter reluctantly withdrew, his eyes running over his body in disbelief, partially annoyed and partially grateful. Castiel watched with guilty eyes, awaiting Dean's angered words. However, all that came was a defeated chuckle. "You're damn stubborn, angel."

Softening his features, the brunette smiled with adoration, "My Grace...it seemed to react to your wounds, and given our proximity..."

"I get it, Cas. Your control slipped, right? With the- kissing, 'n all, I can't blame ya." Dean cocked an eyebrow playfully, grinning past his awkward words. The rush of hormones through his body gave a familiar buzz of euphoria, his eyes bright with felicity.

Castiel watched, dumbfounded, before he realized his hand had been resting on Dean's knee, glancing between himself and the man with a questioning gaze.

Dean's thoughts quickly caught up to the angel's, tempted with the suggestion, yet mindful of his healing Grace. Pressing a final yet lingering kiss to Castiel's lips, Dean decided firmly, "You need to heal, Cas, but we'll talk about... _that_ another time, alright? Just...get some rest."

Although reluctant, the hunter left the angel to his own thoughts at the bunker table, ecstasy flowing through his angelic veins and a blissful grin tugging at his lips. _Never -_ Castiel thought warmly _\- had he anticipated the man with the brightest soul, to fall in love with the angel with the most condemned wings._


	5. Had I Known

**I don't own anything. All rights go to their rightful owners. This story may contain spoilers for the TV series 'Supernatural' post season 11. This chapter may also be graphic and contain sexual content or triggering material. I advise that sensitive readers should not read this story. I do not condone or encourage any violent or heinous acts that may occur in this chapter. Thank you for any and all views, favourites, follows and reviews.**

 **Minor spoilers for Purgatory.**

* * *

Tall trees encased the two beings, towering over them as the gloomy, dim light of Purgatory disappeared behind the horizon. Throwing his body against the trunk of a tree, Dean sat with a weary grunt, a machete clutched tightly in his hands.

Watching the man, his companion decided firmly, "I'll go fetch us some firewood, no use us freezin' to death. We'll 'ave to take watch, though, with the smoke."

"Yeah, sure, Benny." glancing through the trees surrounding them - an action which Dean found himself doing every other second the past few months - he became grateful to have a moment to himself.

As he watched Benny disappear past several trees, his own weapons tightly held in his hands, the human let his head fall back and softly hit the tree's rough bark. A sheen layer of sweat sat on his brow; he had faced every monster from leviathans to werewolves, slashing his way through a land of abominations, yet each day his hope never seemed to falter for the missing angel.

"Cas..." he breathed past the warm air growing cold, his hands loosening on his weapons enough to wipe a damp hand over his jeans. Inhaling steadily, Dean attempted his prayer again, "Dear Castiel, who...probably isn't listening at this point, assuming you're still alive in here." he shook his head in dismal, attempting to push away his hopeless thoughts.

"Look, man, I don't know why you took off like you did, but I do know this; you're family, you're _Cas,_ and I will search every inch of this godforsaken place if it means findin' you. So just...hang in there, alright? Me and Benny, we uh- we're getting close, I think." his hand grazed over the front of his jeans, shifting uncomfortably at the unreleased pressure that had been building over the past few days. "And then we can go home. All of us. And if Sammy's touched my Baby-" he chuckled to himself, barely allowing a smile to cross his face before he wordlessly chastised himself for creating an unnecessary noise.

Dean sighed, his eyes cast skyward, the dark atmosphere surrounding Purgatory unlit by shining stars. "Just come back to me, Cas. It ain't the same without you here."

He thought longingly of the angel; of his dark ruffled hair, of the shadowy outline of his ragged wings, of the soft curve of his mouth, and of the crimson-stained trench coat that forever hung lowly around his vessel. Mournfully, he recalled the dull hope in Castiel's brilliant blue eyes, in turn making his groin stir with a fanciful thought of the fallen angel. Pushing his hand against himself to contain his thickening member, Dean's hips rolled with a strained groan.

 _"Fuck-"_ the words escaped past his lips without thought or regard, rolling from his tongue as his hand seemed irremovable from his crotch. After a moment of internal debate, Dean firmly decided to rub himself into a short moment of ecstasy, surveying the area of forest around him with trained caution. Benny - he decided - would not return from gathering firewood for a while, and he was within shouting distance should he be caught off-guard by one of Purgatory's many nightmares.

Nestling the machete closely beside his thigh, the hunter ran a sweaty palm over the front of his jeans, tentatively pulling his length into the open air. His head made another soft thud against the tree, his hand moving lazily in an attempt to savour the pleasure rolling through his worn body. Thoughts of the angel came to mind, who seemed to haunt Dean since the moment they had landed themselves in Purgatory; whilst Dean was confused as to why Castiel took off as suddenly as he did, he assured himself that the angel _must've_ had his reasons.

 _I don't know where you are, Cas,_ he thought sorrowfully, briefly nonchalant to the hand that moved faster across his length, _but I just want you back with me. I want you here._ His breath hitched in his throat, his memory gently reminding him of the way that Castiel's lips would tug into a grin - a rarity so beautiful that it became worth waiting for.

 _"Fuck, Cas-"_

Whilst Dean attempted to remind himself that he _couldn't_ masturbate to the thoughts of his best friend, he came undone in his hand without shame, the name of the angel within a groan from his lips. His skin became slick with his bittersweet release, his breath coming in uneven gasps.

 _Damnit, Cas. Just come home to me._

* * *

Castiel braced himself with an unsteady hand against a tree, Dean's longing peeking in intensity, much higher than it had before; the fallen angel had listened to his prayers each night - anticipated them after some weeks, allowing them to become a familiar comfort in a land of nightmares - though over time, they became increasingly intimate, the soft moans and whimpers that Dean would unknowingly leave in his prayers a lifeline for the hopeless Castiel.

Though with nightfall having fallen, the angel had been expecting the arrival of the hunter's prayer.

 _Hey, Cas._

 _Castiel? Angel-of-the-friggin'-Lord? You got your ears turned on?_

 _Hell, you probably don't even listen to these. That's if you're alive._

 _...no, it's not like Cas to go down without some giant-ass angelic fight...  
_

Through the intense longing that Dean emitted to him, Castiel could feel the hope beneath his doubtful words, the months of silence taking their toll. Despite wanting to go to him, the angel knew better than to allow his emotions to rule his head; even if he rarely listened to what he knew better of.

 _Listen, man, I don't know why you ran. I don't understand it. But whatever happened, whatever is on your ass - you gotta trust me. You gotta let me help._

His head hung low, Castiel leaned his back against the tree, his eyes pressed shut regretfully. Despite his boundless trust for the hunter, he reminded himself that he was keeping his distance to protect him; that if Castiel allowed himself to be near Dean once more, he would be unable to keep the leviathans from the hunter's tracks, therefore putting him in a danger that the angel thought entirely his own fault.

With a sigh lodged in his prayer, Dean's longing became deeper, each sorrowful thought pulling at Castiel's heart.

 _C'mon, man._

He could hear Dean's breath hitch in his throat, the utter defeat in his tone more painful than the nights the hunter would scream his sorrows. A whimper caught Castiel off guard, who felt his vessel begin to stir with arousal, and if his ears hadn't of alarmed him to the approaching nightmare, he would have listened carefully to each delicate moan that left Dean's mouth.

"You're- no, how could an angel end up-" the creature furrowed her eyebrows, her last emotion bewilderment before the angel burned his light so brightly that it incapacitated her. Wordlessly, Castiel abandoned his location.

 _Cas, I- shit!  
_

Within a second, the connection between the hunter and the angel disconnected, leaving Castiel frowning with concern; he did not feel Dean's familiar ending, where he would send the strongest and most intimate waves of love and longing at his climax, or the regret and disappointment he would leave thereafter. Instead, Castiel felt Dean's prayer end abruptly, fear in his veins.

Minutes passed as he waited anxiously, hoping to feel the Righteous Man's soul burn brightly in prayer once more. He'd sighed a breath of relief when the words chimed in his skull:

 _I'm comin' for you, Cas. Just hang in there one more day._

* * *

Thick air and heat surrounded them, engulfing the oxygen in the atmosphere of Purgatory, sweat dripping down from the hunter's brow. Leaning into the trunk of an archaic tree, Dean called for a moment to regain himself. He dropped a trembling hand to his abdomen.

With furrowed eyebrows, Castiel relinquished his place at the tail of the group to approach Dean, searching his pain-stricken features for an answer to his unspoken question. The hunter shook his head.

"It's nothin', Cas." he assured weakly, reluctant to admit the truth as Benny watched the pair closely.

Castiel's frown deepened, "It's not 'nothing', Dean. You're injured." he stated adamantly. The man, stubborn yet conceding, shrunk further back against the peeling tree and raised his shirt with a groan; he revealed a wound bordered with darkened skin, flesh torn and sewn with a hurried hand. It seemed recent, Castiel decided, with bruises still beginning to purple against his chest and abdomen.

"We were jumped a couple days back, a pack of werewolves lookin' for fresh meat." Benny explained gruffly, gesturing to Dean's wounds, "We took 'em down, but one of 'em got it's claws into Dean." with downcast eyes, avoiding Dean's green ones, the angel assessed the hunter further, who allowed the touch with a familiar solace.

"The day before you found me at the river."

Dean didn't respond, though instead watched his friend's guilt-ridden face, hissing at the pain and discomfort of each tender movement. Benny, clearing his throat awkwardly, suggested finding some fish before escaping the yearning glances, his weariness for the angel having dissipated with the way Dean's eyes would settle upon the dirtied beige trench coat.

Speaking eventually, slowly and steadily working his weary Grace into the crevices of Dean's torn flesh, Castiel confessed quietly, "I was listening to your prayer before the attack. If I had known this would be the result..."

Dean rose his gaze from his wound, which had been observing with caution and fascination, and he furrowed his eyebrows, his memory hazy of the event; as he recalled the moments leading up to the assault, his eyes widened with worry.

"You didn't _hear_ anything, did you, Cas?"

"I hear all of your prayers, Dean." Castiel reminded gently, his voice low and gravelly. His eyes flickered up to scan Dean's features for signs of pain, yet they lingered when they caught with bright green irises. "Whether you intend for me to hear them or not."

Swallowing awkwardly, the hunter questioned in a muffled voice, "So, you uh- heard that, huh? It's not- it's not that I'm- I'm not _gay,_ I just-" the angel smiled softly, his eyes dull with forlorn, yet the tugging corners of his lips suggested affection. It silenced Dean's stumbling words, long enough for him to regain himself and state firmly, "It's Purgatory, Cas. It ain't like there's women, and it was just a bit of happiness in a shit place, alright? It's nothin' personal."

With his harsh and impersonal words, Castiel's features faltered, pulling himself away from the hunter as his Grace withdrew. And there the two wordlessly trudged to the river, their emotions concealed and their happiness forbidden, the only beings preventing their romance _—_ themselves.


End file.
